


nine. apanthropinization

by valvet



Category: Moby Dick - Herman Melville
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Isolation, M/M, Yearning, i guess i dont know, i mean its not really ship related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23287960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valvet/pseuds/valvet
Summary: {noun} withdrawal from human concerns or the human world
Relationships: Captain Ahab/Starbuck (Moby Dick)
Kudos: 4





	nine. apanthropinization

**Author's Note:**

> skipped like eight other numbers but ill post them later, instead of starbuck being sad now its ahabs turn to suffer.

Even before Moby Dick had taken his leg, Ahab hated people; groups of people specifically. He could stand most people for certain amounts of time, not to say they were bad people, Ahab knew that most of the people in Nantucket were good religious men and women, but he could barely stand the way they talked to him. How the women would act ever so motherly towards him, saying their prayers before him for his alignment to be healed; their husbands being no better as they chatted with him with such condescension. It would take him five minutes or so before he’d tell those young couples off; his wife attempting to soothe his rage at them as Ahab would damn them to hell. 

The sea however, lacked those sorts of people--well, at least a small amount of those types of people. Some of his crew would give him such desperate and sad looks when they’d look at him, but he didn't bother with them; he had Starbuck talk to them. Most of the people aboard the Pequod were loud, boisterous and some of them drunkards; but they did get the work done, and that would do; as long as they were strong and followed Ahab; he could stand a conversation or two with them. When it came to his actual college, that was more difficult.

In the best words Ahab could think, they cared too much, a virtue and a vice he supposed, it’s not a bad thing to care. But he didn't need to be taken care of, nobody had to worry about him; after all worry would take away from the real issue of that damn whale still being out there! Still..he did allow Starbuck to worry; he knew him well enough that he couldn't quence that feeling in him. He was easy to mold to certain things, Starbuck understood his plight even if it took a few hours worth of bickering to get him to that point, but he still had a married man’s heart. The best way he attempted to avoid the caring eyes of Starbuck was his cabin, which was where he spent most of his time. Ahab’s eyes were used to the sight of the wood around him and the warm glow around him from the candle that occasionally would be replaced by Starbuck’s velvet hands. No words exchanged between them expect for the fiddling of the light, however, habits change he realized. 

“Captain?” Ahab barely moved his head to acknowledge Starbuck, he just let out a low hum at his existence and continued on staring at his charts. “I know you hate me to dote on you, heaven forbid i care about my captain but--you don't seem well, perhaps it because we barely see you, but i must have to worry” 

“Don't” was all Ahab could muster up, they had just departed out from Nantucket and could already feel his blood rush to his head, it had been so long since he’d been out to see, the numb from which his leg stood before ached and his face felt so numb. “Old Ahab likes his isolation, leave me be '' he murmured, covering his face with his hands. Even in the darkness it wouldn't stop the pain in his leg, it burned ever so much. When the whale had bitten it off it didn't hurt immediately, it was the aftershock that got him on the ground wheezing and crying. The night after Moby Dick had torn him to pieces was the worst, the sea mocked him from outside the cabin, his head red with pain and everything felt so much. 

His whole body went into a panic when he felt Starbuck’s hand on his shoulder--the whale had such a fierce bite into his leg that he felt it through his eyes--Ahab grabbed him by the wrist and could feel his bones, they were so clean from the sinful bite. A part of him was tempted to break it, but he didn't, oh if it was Stubb then he would, but Starbuck? Oh,

Oh Starbuck.

“My dearest Starbuck, art thou an understander of my situation? I wish to be left alone, for without it I must dwell on you, and you to the same. Ye make this ever so difficult to do, must you?” Ahab stood to his feet, wobbling slightly against the desk as he pushed down his free hand for balance. Without a second thought he released Starbuck’s hand and kissed his first mate roughly, biting down at every inch of skin that he could reach. All of his bottled up feelings of the day coming to the surface as he scratched at Starbuck’s velvet skin, once they broke away he stumbled back, falling onto the floor and looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Have you gone mad?” Starbuck questioned with much precision, covering his mouth with a red face. Ahab scowled, what a fiend he was, so desperate.

“Leave, Mr. Starbuck”

“I beg your pardon? You just kissed me! I know we’ve been--intimate... before but you’ve certainly lost it! Oh the Lord will have me, he will have me.” Usually when Starbuck trembled, it brought him some sort of positive emotion, mostly just and begging to see more, but everything felt so much, the searing pain in his head was ever so white--just like Moby Dick himself, that devil had drilled his way into his head! Oh he’d pay, would he suffer for that, Ahab would rip that whale fin from fin and relish in his screams; he needed to relish in them. 

“Leave me be, please” Ahab gripped at the table, feeling each indent in it as he begged for them to hurt him. “Ye like me dont ye? Old Ahab knows you do, like the rest of the crew you must have to but please; I ask nothing of you for most days but do this for me would you, leave.”

Then he did, and Ahab was alone again, hand bleeding slightly from the pressure he was applying into the wood; he’d deal with it after the whale. He did like being alone, but not this alone, even as he sat down back to his charts; hearing the chatter from his crew outside a part of him wanted to beg for Starbuck to help him--make him feel something other than the white.

But Moby Dick was still out there, he still beckoned him in the night with his teeth, and until he was dead, nothing would make it stop, he’d have to suffer in his own loneliness until the whale showed its forehead.

Perhaps then he wouldn't be so lonely.


End file.
